77 books like The Breakaways

Boys are one way; girls are another; that’s the way it has always been. But when Aster finds himself ineluctably drawn to the magic that should only be the province of the women in his family, he begins to realize some rules are not only antiquated, they can do material harm to the soul. Ostertag deftly uses the supernatural as a simple and elegant metaphor for the thousand indignities we can heap upon the queer and gender nonconforming, with an art style that simultaneously insists upon and celebrates the multiplicity of bodies and expressions that are our lived experience and belie these closed and closeting norms. An ingenious allegory, smartly and briskly told with charm and generosity.

I adored this book from the moment I read the first page of the first graphic novel! I fell in love with Nick and Charlie and related so hard to the struggles that they were going through, even though I’m older than they are. It brought me back to how I felt in high school.

Charlie’s eating disorder, especially, really struck a nerve, and I thought it was handled with such beautiful rawness. Note: I read it before watching the TV show, which I also love. 

Nguyen is another artist whose drawings blow my mind. On top of his gorgeous, fluid, imaginative artwork, this book showcases a unique and gently told story about a boy who processes his burgeoning queerness through his and his mother’s shared passion for fairy tales.

Nguyen adds literary flair with a limited and intentional color palette—red shades for the present, blue for fairy tales, and yellow for memory—and also explores themes of immigration and assimilation. (The protagonist and his family, like the author-illustrator, are Vietnamese.)

I’ve been a fan of Jen Wang since Livejournal was still a thing. Her stories have an indie yet accessible vibe, and her elegant brushwork is equally adept at capturing cute, expressive faces as it is at depicting detailed, flowing ballgowns. 

In this gorgeous graphic novel, a young seamstress becomes the confidante of a shy prince as he embarks on a journey of gender exploration (with soooooo many pretty dresses.) It captures the warm, nostalgic feeling of an intimate childhood friendship, the kind with its own secret language and lore.

This book falls on the younger side of this list. I’d say it’s more sparkling than spicy, and would be an appropriate gift (one you secretly steal and consume voraciously in a single sitting) for a middle-grade or early-YA reader.

Fitzsimons’s debut, about a stealth trans soccer player named Spencer who’s crushing on a teammate at a new school, is sweet, funny, warm, sporty, and all too relevant. When Spencer’s benched due to the F on his birth certificate, he can either ride the pine with the secret intact, or fight for his right to be on the field, outing himself in the process and risking his crush.

This heartwarming novel is full of soccer, touching family dynamics, and girl power. It stars a feisty sixth-grader named Bea who has to adjust to a new house, a new school, a new blended family, and a new neighbor who’s gunning for her position on the soccer field. At first, Bea is determined to look out for herself and protect her turf, but then she and her neighbor team up to fight against sexism and form the first-ever all-girls squad. The team dynamics in this book will make any reader cheer. Soccer fans will love the on-field action, but this gem of a novel also has humor, emotional depth, delightful and inspiring characters, and even references to the beloved Katherine Paterson novel Bridge to Terabithia!

When soccer-loving Lola accidentally injures a classmate during a pickup game at recess, her peers start calling her “Mean Lola Levine.” Losing playground privileges and friends is enough to put Lola in a bad mood that almost lives up to her unfortunate new nickname. I like that Brown treats Lola with empathy (after all, what happened was an accident) while also having her realize she was playing too aggressively and does bear some responsibility for the incident. This story can guide young readers through similarly sticky situations. 

Maria Parr’s timeless novel takes place in Norway’s fictional Mathildewick Cove. The story centers on Lena and her best friend Trille, who are dealing with typical 12-year-old matters, including family arguments, rapidly growing bodies, and drama-filled school days. The setting of Lena, the Sea, and Me is especially charming, featuring mountains, hills, farm animals, and of course the water, which plays a significant role in the book. I appreciate that Lena and Trille spend all their time outside. Lena in particular—with her strong limbs and ruddy cheeks—is formidable as she builds rafts and plays goalkeeper for her soccer team. Irascible and lively, she will delight and inspire readers everywhere.

Golden Maroni is a well-drawn main character who dreams of success on the soccer field. At the same time, he tries to take care of those he loves in the best way he knows how. If he works hard and becomes a great soccer player, then maybe his dad can recover from ALS, and maybe his best friend won’t move away. There are several heavy topics in this book, but they are done with skill and sensitivity. I love the ten thousand hours theme of working towards your goals, but also the poignant truth that not all goals can be achieved by this method.

Olympics organizers love to produce economic impact assessments claiming that hosting this mega-event will boost the local economy by astronomical amounts.

Andrew Zimbalist is an economist who painstakingly illustrates why this is never the case. Circus Maximus is written for a lay audience, rather than an academic one, and is easily read even by us non-economists.

He clearly and methodically demonstrates how and why the Olympics and World Cup have never made money for their host cities, and likely never will.